I opened up to Moriah and her family about what happened between me and Mom. I recounted her insistence on ridding me of my powers out of the blue and making sudden and extreme choices with my life without me, including my relationship with Lizzie. I expressed my frustration for Mom’s outlandish demands, how she’d been controlling throughout my life, not trusting me to make adult choices as I grew, being omnipresent throughout my outings with Lizzie, the list went on. I explained how I ran out on her to get some space, only for her to call the cops and report me missing after not even an hour of me sulking on my own. I recounted how I’d felt that was the last straw, and I immediately decided that she was not going to change her ways, that she was too focused on turning me into her little puppet to listen to my perspective, that I was effectively yelling into a void… I expressed how my frustration led me to telling her not to contact or talk to me before graduation, so that she’d learn just how serious I was about standing up for myself. And finally, I went over the deal I made with her that I would prove to her how I was in control over my powers, that I could use them wisely and intentionally without worry of losing control. I’d do this by abstaining from my powers for three months—until graduation—and show her that I was the same person as I was before. The only things I refrained from the story were the scenes that came beforehand, from the hospital room where Doyle—Lizzie’s father—attacked me, which led me to use my powers in self-defense.

                The entire time, Moriah was nodding along and reacting, yet never making it clear she was siding with anyone. She’d make grunts of frustration at some of Mom’s demands, but also hums of understanding when I tried to explain Mom’s point of view. She’d nod along sympathetically at my frustrations but ponder when I shared my doubts. When I finished, she exhaled. “Goodness, I can see why you’re so torn up about this…”

                I brought a hand to my forehead, the story bringing forth a headache. “I love Mom, and I really want this to work. But she’s being completely unreasonable, and I can’t help but think she’ll just get her way if I relent at all. To relent is to give in, and I can’t let her think she has that kind of control over my life again. But also… what if I’m overreacting? What if I’m being too cruel?”

                Moriah took several seconds to think, before leaning onto the table. “I’m going to take this back a bit. I agree with you one hundred percent about her demands being absolutely ridiculous. Getting rid of your powers by throwing your secret out to the world is extremely careless, ironically doing the opposite of what she wanted to do by keeping you safe. To make the decision without even asking you is even worse. And then to go several steps further to use that power-trip she’s on to control parts of your life that have no relevance to your powers is outrageous. As a mother, I’m truly ashamed of her. No child, let alone adult, should have to deal with that kind of treatment.”

                I nodded along, feeling a lot less weight on my shoulders. Finally, a mother seemed to understand! I wasn’t crazy after all!

                “I’m sensing a but,” Lizzie said.

                Moriah sighed. “Yes, there is. We have to remind ourselves that the topic at hand here is magic, an unconventional aspect of life no matter how you put it. When something unnatural happens that could harm someone or drastically change lives, a mother’s natural response is to think first and foremost of her kids and her family. We instinctively become overly protective, finding the fastest way to keep the family safe by any means, and that can seriously affect our behavior. Some moms like to be in control, and when something massive happens, we struggle to hear alternate options because it’s another partition in our road to safety for our babies, in our minds at least. I have to imagine that’s what happened with your mother. She saw a potential danger to the family—justified or otherwise—and did what she thought she had to do to protect the family.”

                “So, what,” I huffed, “I just have to let my mom dictate my life because she’s scared? We just have to forgive people for being manipulative and controlling because they are scared!? I should just let my mom control my life and puppeteer me into being her little toy because she’s scared!?”

                “Of course not,” Moriah said, cutting me off before I went off on an angry tangent. “No one said the behavior is good, I’m only explaining why it happens. It’s irrational behavior for a reason, and I want you to understand that you shouldn’t take it as an indication of a pattern. Given time, we sober.”

                “How do you know it’s not a pattern for her?” I asked. “This isn’t the first time she’s pulled shit like this before you know. Maybe not as extreme as trying to forcibly destroy a relationship, but she’s still tried to wiggle her way into my life where she shouldn’t…”

                Moriah sighed. “Well, if it’s a repeating issue, then yes, it might be a case where she should be seeking some professional help—frankly, I’d look into getting one for yourself too, Beck, it’s never shameful to seek help after all. What kinds of things has she done before, if you don’t mind me asking?”

                I rolled my eyes. “That week in Boston alone had too many. After my accident, she flew over to the hospital and demanded that I end my vacation early, even though I, and my doctors, both said that I was fine. She never even trusted me to take a fucking vacation with my girlfriend in the first place for that matter—"

                “But you still went anyways, right?” Moriah clarified.

                “Only after a million assurances that we’d be safe and careful. And even then, she was all passive aggressive about it after the fact, saying things like ‘I wish you weren’t going’ and ‘I hope your girlfriend doesn’t lead you to anything dangerous’ and other stuff like that.” Lizzie let out a frustrated snort at the last thing I said.

                Moriah pursed her lips to the side with a frown. “Yeah, I can see how that would be grating. It would be one thing if you weren’t, what, twenty-one? And for the arguments to occur so frequently… I can understand why you felt like things weren’t getting any better. You’re probably right that at some point, conversations needed to happen to prevent this kind of thing from spiraling in the future.”

                “See, that’s why I gave her the silent treatment,” I said, pointing at her agreeingly. “It was becoming a pattern, and I was getting the sense that she thought I was just taking it and that she could get away with it. I started to realize that I was arguing with a brick wall, and that the only thing I could do to have any authority or impact was to cut myself off at the source. That was the only way for her to realize that she couldn’t just get her way every time, and that for once, she needed to do some listening.”

                Moriah nodded along sympathetically. “Well, I certainly feel like I understand your perspective a lot better Beck. I can see why you walked out that night.”

                I eyed her, waiting for her to add something else, but we just sort of stared at each other. “So… what do you think?” I asked, looking for her verdict. “Did I do the right thing by cutting her off until graduation?”

                She leaned in a bit quizzically. “What do you think?”

                “Huh?” I asked, taken aback by the challenge.

                “I’m assuming you’re asking because you have doubts yourself about your choice. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be conflicted, and you probably wouldn’t be asking me for my opinion. So, what’s the thing bothering you about the choice you made?”

                I stared at her, dumbfounded. “Are you sure you aren’t a therapist?”

                Hazel burst into laughter. “That’s what I’m saying! I couldn’t count the number of times she’s helped me throughout my life, she might as well be!”

                Moriah smiled and waved her off, but didn’t take her eyes off me, waiting patiently.

                I thought to myself, realizing for the first time that I hadn’t put it to words about what was bothering me about what had happened. Without much direction, I decided to spit out my thoughts. “I guess… I’m a bit worried I was too cruel to her. That I made her think I hated her and didn’t want her in my life at all, even though that’s not what I want. I’m worried that she thinks I’m just abusing my powers to make my life easier and throwing them out without any regard to my own safety. And… I’m scared that she hates me. That she won’t even come to graduation because I’ve pissed her off so much that she’s disowning me, or that if we do meet that she’ll come at me harder and try to control my life harder. And… I’m worried that we won’t be mother and son again…”

                My monologue left Cole and Hazel very uncomfortable at the table, both now hyper focused on their phones or empty plates. Lizzie, already holding my hand, leaned in for a comforting shoulder bump that mildly resembled a hug.

                “So…” Moriah said, gathering her thoughts. “It sounds like there are two primary concerns. One is that you possibly failed to properly communicate your concerns with her, and that she took a completely different perspective from the one you were trying to convey. And you then worry that the relationship may already be over, rather than leave room for a future discussion to repair it. Does that about sum it up?”

                I nodded slowly. “What should I do? Should I just keep up with what I’ve been doing? Am I overreacting?”

                “Before I answer that, I just want to clarify something. What makes you so steadfast in keeping communication blocked between you and your mother between graduation and now? I know you wanted a break from her, but if these concerns have been lingering for this long, why not send even a clarification text?”

                I scoffed and crossed my arms. “Because then she wins. She’ll know that she bothered me with her constant pestering until I broke down. I told her not to contact me before graduation, full stop. If she can’t meet my terms, how will I know if she’ll ever meet them? How will I know if she’ll ever listen to me? Or if she even respects me?”

                “So, for you, this is about winning?” Moriah asked, a bit coldly.

                “What? No, that’s not—" I started before realizing what I’d just said. I shook my head, muttering to myself. “That’s not what I meant…”

                “Sweetie, if you want this relationship to work, it can’t be about winning or losing an argument. There has to be a voice on both sides and active listening on both sides. There needs to be compromises, mutual understanding of each other’s’ voices. While certainly there feels like only one voice has been prominent between you two, a relationship simply isn’t going to work without the ability for both sides to communicate with each other.”

                “I’m willing to have a discussion!” I snapped. “Just not… right away. I think any time before graduation is too soon. She did say it best, I have to focus on my studies.”

                She paused for a bit, considering. She then nodded. “I think that’s totally fair to ask.”

                “Really?” I said, surprised she’d come around so easily.

                “Really. Study is important, and it’s fair to want to put familial issues aside to focus on finishing school first. But I have to imagine that this whole situation is making it hard to focus on your schoolwork, yes? It might be that until you get some closure with your mother, you’ll feel trapped academically, and your grades may suffer as a result. I’m not necessarily saying to have the full discussion right now. Just enough to ease your worries and give yourself enough confidence to put the conversation to the back of your mind for now. You’ll feel better about making your points clear, and your mother will feel infinitely better knowing you don’t hate her.”

                I wanted to argue back, but that damn “winning” argument kept making me step back. She hit the nail on the head. I was so persistent in keeping the silence because I didn’t want to give in to her. What I should be focusing on was making sure we had a productive discussion after graduation, and making sure I could have my mom back in my life. I sighed. “So… you think I should text her?”

                “Me personally? I’d give her a call. But I’m not you, nor am I in your shoes. I’m a bit old school, so I like giving people calls. But if you think a text can clarify things without feeling like you’re giving into your mom, then do what you think works best. Just make it crystal clear that you love her and that you want the relationship between you two to work out. That alone should help her calm down a bunch.”

                “What do I do if she calls me?” I asked, already anticipating the midnight calls.

                She shrugged. “That’s up to you. You can answer them, you can ignore them. You can text a reply. Whatever you think is best. Remember, you don’t have to answer any questions you don’t want to. If you think she’s making demands from you before graduation, you can just decline to continue the discussion. You can have discourse with her without having discourse if that makes any sense.”

                I nodded slowly, my mind still processing everything. “Thanks. I’ll… I’ll figure something out. Thanks for listening.”

                “Do you feel better?” Moriah asked.

                “A little bit,” I admitted, feeling good that I was finally able to talk freely about my struggles without having to get into my powers at all. I put my hand on my heart and let myself focus on the electricity stored there without disturbing it at all. I just let my brain hear the buzzing in my heart and felt the tickling of the electricity against my hand, as faint as it was. It was a good way to remind myself of what I was fighting for, without making it feel like a big deal at all. With it stored inside of my heart, it felt smaller, easier to manage. The feeling calmed me down significantly.